


Other Way Round

by elaiel



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaiel/pseuds/elaiel





	Other Way Round

“Okay, last part of the ruins; you need to get into the temple Archimedes.”

“I can see that Ledar, I’m a little busy at the moment.” He snapped into his head set microphone.

The screen flickered as the space mechanic fired a series of laser bolts at a couple of animated metal beetle creatures. Ledar the walking tank appeared on the edge of his screen.

“Archimedes! They only take impact damage. Come on!”

“Yes, yes, I’m on it, I’m not a bloody magician.”

There was a giggle over the headset.

“Wrong game, but if you even fancy World of…”

“Not voluntarily, I only signed up and joined your Guild to do this as my course has finished...”

The space mechanic stepped through the doors of the Temple of Dark Technology.

“...and you’re bored. We know Archimedes.” Ledar’s voice was amused. “And the fact Tegryn hacked you a free account for that journals website doesn’t come into it.”

“Well....Shite!”

The space mechanic dodged sideways as a greenish looking alien appeared from a side room and hacked at him with an improbably large sword. There was a flurry of sparks and laser bolts before Ledar the tank appeared and blew it to pieces.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Now get us through the next puzzle.”

Another two puzzles were passed and several running battles with more of the clockwork bug creatures, and a little grey skinned guy that appeared and disappeared. The Guild fighters delivered Archimedes to the door and the machine.

“Fifth time lucky Archimedes, there must be some serious loot when we get the ship running.” Ledar’s high soprano voice was deeply incongruous against the actions of her decidedly male and aggressive looking avatar. Nothing like the thirty two year old mother of three he knew she was.

“Or an orbital base for the guild, that would be cool!” Added another Guild member, one of the youngsters. He’d never bothered to learn all the names.

“I’m betting it’s a giant clockwork beetle monster.” Tegryn volunteered. “Or another one of those annoying possessed wizards with the glowing yellow eyes.”

They waited, getting restless as Archimedes continued to work on the puzzle, characters shifting on the screen in front of him.

“Is it meant to take this long?” Muttered Tegryn.

“I am assuming yes,” Archimedes voice was sharp. “Why don’t you go shoot something while I work?”

“Can’t you just hit it with an enhanced Firestorm Bomb?”

“We’ve been down that road before, none too successful.”

The final characters dropped into place.

“Yes!” there was a chorus of yips and cheers from the Guild.

And the screen reset.

“What happened?!” demanded Ledar.

“I have no idea.” Archimedes said. “It should’ve completed the puzzle.”

“Are you sure you got it right?” Tegryn asked.

“Yes, I’m sure I got it right!” Archimedes snapped.

There was grumbling and debate.

“Maybe it’s a system glitch.” Tegryn offered. “Look, I’ll raise it as a service and maintenance issue tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to have another try, are we good for Thursday nights Guild raid?”

There was a chorus of agreements and apologies.

“Fine,” said Archimedes in irritation, “I’ll see you all then, won’t I.”

He disconnected.

 

 xxxoooxxx

 

The street was wet and grim looking in the pre-dawn light and the fading orange of the street lamps. There was a group of children sitting on the roof of a car with no wheels, up on bricks, staring at them through the drizzle. The gate squeaked as they pushed it open and looking up at the large semi-detached house Eli creased his eyebrows.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

The house was large but dilapidated, with peeling paint on the door and window frames and one of the panes of an upstairs window was broken and patched with a plastic bag taped into place. As they walked up the cracked concrete path they were forced to dodge past a motorbike heavily chained in place against theft, and an aggressively overgrown rambling rose. Water trickled down the side of the building from a broken gutter.

“It’s the right address.”

O’Neill banged on the door. There was a long pause, and then the sound of a lock being undone. The door was opened by a skinny unhealthy looking man in tracksuit bottoms and nothing else except a series of badly executed tattoos on his body, arms and neck. He rubbed at his eyes as if he’d just been woken.

“We’re looking for Nicholas Rush.”

The man sniffed.

“’E’s upstairs, in ‘is room.”

Eli stared down the hallway. The floor was covered in a threadbare institutional grey carpet and the walls were covered in magnolia painted woodchip wallpaper, which was peeling in the corners. There were a few stains on the carpet he really didn’t want to ask about and past the two doors and a narrowish staircase Eli could see what looked to be a large but grubby kitchen.

“Can we go up?” O’Neill’s tone was mild.

“Dunno.” The skinny man sniffed.

“Well, why don’t you tell us which room it is and we’ll go and knock?”

The man considered them.

“’E might not want to see you.”

The man looked from the uniformed older man to the geeky looking guy in jeans, hoody and Barbarella t-shirt. O’Neill took a step closer to the door.

“Well he can tell us to leave then can’t he.”

His voice was still mild, but held a distinct edge and he loomed a little at the man. The man looked at the uniform, evidently unfamiliar, then at O’Neill’s impassive face. The man decided it either wasn’t worth the effort or simply that O’Neill looked too dangerous to piss off and stepped back out of the doorway.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

“Holy cow!”

McKay looked up from the laptop at where Eli was goggling at the screen.

“What is it Eli?” he said, looking back at the screen.

“Uh, someone’s just cracked the puzzle.” His voice was shocked.

McKay’s face snapped up.

“Where?!”

“Uh, London?”

McKay let out a deep sigh.

“Maybe finally I’ll get off this godforsaken base and back home.” He muttered.

He stood and walked over to the screen, looking down as the characters dropped into place.

“There’s a whole bunch of characters there.” He said, gesturing impatiently at the crowd of avatars.

Eli wound back the footage.

“Yeah, but we start recording game action and video and real time audio as soon as someone cracks the first puzzle and this guy Archimedes cracks them all, no help at all. This is the eighth try this Guild have had in four weeks, They’ve been here every Sunday and Thursday, they got through the first two puzzles on their own, but six tries ago they gave up and brought in this guy Archimedes the space mechanic...”

McKay shook his head in disbelief at the sheer juvenile idiocy of the game.

“...who just cracks all the entrance puzzles on the first go, and in five tries he’s cracked the final one.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m working on that.”

“Well work faster, you’re the genius hacker.”

“Technically I’m a mathematician.” Eli grumbled.

“And I’ll admit it was your correction of the math for the hyperspace drive that got you a job and your doctorate funded after hacking into the SGC, rather than a short trip to a cell. And I’ll say again, you’re lucky I noticed what files you were pissing around in. If it was the only thing though “Math boy” we wouldn’t have gone along with your dumb computer game idea.”

“Hey, I’ve got a real doctorate!”

“Get another and I’ll be impressed.”

“And my idea worked!”

 

xxxoooxxx

 

O’Neill stared at the picture on the screen.

“So who is this guy?”

“Oxford drop out.” Said McKay, “got Mono in his last year, lost the jobs he was supporting himself with, got behind on his work and had to drop out of his Math degree.”

O’Neill raised an eyebrow, nodding.

“Tough break.”

“What do we know about him?”

“In our half hour information trawl?”

McKay scrolled through the details.

“Born in Glasgow, left to go to University a bit under thirty years ago. Single, work history is...inconsistent to say the least, I’d say he gets bored with them and moves on. He’s had a series of low to average paid and reasonably dead end jobs. Obviously works to live rather than the other way round.”

He scrolled to education history.

“Entertains himself by racking up correspondence degrees with the British Open University.”

“Real degrees?”

McKay nodded.

“Oh yeah, real degrees, and he’s got eight.”

O’Neill was surprised.

“Eight?”

“Yeah, all at Bachelor level over the last couple of decades, mostly firsts, top marks. Mathematics, music, natural sciences specialised in physics, philosophy...”

O’Neill snorted

“...mathematics and statistics, computing and IT, open humanities degree with Latin and Classics focus and most recently a BSc in Engineering.”

There was a pause.

“Wow.” Said Eli.

McKay scrolled through again.

“Lives in a single room apartment in London. Currently works for a company that builds medical electronics, mainly specialist precision heating solutions and insulin pumps according to the website. Actually applied for an American visa once.”

“What for?”

“Visa application says he was apparently engaged to an American, concert violinist who studied Music at Oxford when he was there. She was diagnosed with breast cancer and he withdrew his application. Records say she died in Britain a year after he dropped out.”

O’Neill sat back and stared at them both.

“So you’re telling me that the puzzle that’s stumped the finest minds of the SGC has been solved by a drop out perpetual student who makes pumps for a living?”

McKay and Eli looked at each other.

“Yes.” They said sheepishly in concert.

 

xxxoooxxx

 

The house smelled of a combination of fried food, bleach and a strange acrid smell Eli couldn’t place. They walked up the stairs which creaked alarmingly and O’Neill knocked on the door to their right at the top of the stairs. Eli noted that the door to this apartment was different to the others, much more substantial.

There was noise of movement in the room, the sound of several bolts being unlocked and a rattle as a chain was put on the door. The door opened a fraction, the length of the security chain. Eli looked round O’Neill’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of a neat looking man with collar length hair, brown eyes and an intense stare.

“Yes?” The tone was curious but not welcoming.

“Nicholas Rush?”

There was a pause in which the man looked O’Neill’s uniform over before the man answered.

“I’m not sure that you have the right person.”

“Do I look like someone who would be standing here if I didn’t know everything there is to know about you?”

There was a noise and one of the other three doors opened a crack. Rush regarded them.

The man scowled.

“Apparently not.”

“Right.”

Eli looked around from behind O’Neill and Rush caught sight of him.

“Who’re you?”

“Doctor Eli Wallace. Hey, can we come in?” Eli asked hopefully. He gestured at the neighbour watching from the other door.

“Why?”

O’Neill fished in his pocket and silently held up his official air force ID. There was another long pause as Rush scrutinised the ID curiously, then the door closed, the chain rattled and it opened again. He stepped back and let them in, shutting, locking and bolting the door behind them. O’Neill noted there was a hockey stick next to the door.

“Some of my neighbours have drug habits to feed and I like to keep my possessions.”

Eli and O’Neill looked around the room in surprise. It was maybe 4 metres by 5 metres, with a single large window, with metal bars on the outside. There was a small sink next to a radiator by the door, and at the far end of the room a neatly made single bed was just visible, tucked into the recess by the chimney breast, the wall above it covered with large whiteboards. In the opposite alcove was a desk with a significant amount of computer equipment and a table was covered in electrical tools and what appeared to be a deconstructed computer among other things. There was a small wardrobe and a chest at the end of the bed. And then there were shelves. Covering the rest of the walls. Everywhere. Full of books, folders, notebooks, hundreds of notebooks.

Rush turned to them. Eli grinned. O’Neill removed his hat.

“Look, you’ve spent a lot of time this last month playing an online fantasy game called Prometheus, right.” Eli was almost bouncing on his toes.

“Big brother’s got nothing better to do?” The man’s tone was scathing.

“Last night you solved the Dakara weapons puzzle.” Eli grinned at the man.

“Ahh, yes, the Guild’s little problem. A month of my life went into solving that for them. You know what happens when you solve that thing? Nothing.” Rush took a couple of steps back and leaned on the table, waiting.

O’Neill tilted his head slightly.

“We’re here. That happened.” He offered.

Eli took a step forward, smiling broadly.

“To complete that particular puzzle you’ve got to solve a millennia old mathematical proof written in another language.”

Rush didn’t look impressed.

“And for that, you’ve got a prize!” He grinned again.

“Whatever it is, I’ll take the cash equivalent.” Rush’s voice was cynical.

“There isn’t one.” O’Neill responded flatly.

Rush padded sock-footed over to the table, picked up a kettle and filled it from the sink before turning it on and without asking taking three clean cups and a cafetiere from a shelf. Eli dug in his messenger bag and as Rush turned back, proffered a wad of paper.

“It’s a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Non-disclo…”

Rush looked at it suspiciously like it was going to bite him.

“So you people really embedded a top secret program into a game? Hoping someone like me would solve it?” His tone was disbelieving.

Eli looked at O’Neill with a slightly triumphant look.

“Yep.” O’Neill nodded.

“So what do you need me for now?”

Rush turned back to the table as the kettle came to the boil and turned itself off. He poured water over the ground coffee in the cafetiere. He waved the sugar bowl at O’Neill and Eli, Eli shook his head, but O’Neill held up two fingers and they watched as Rush made coffee and handed it to them. Eli took his coffee in his free hand and proffered the non-disclosure agreement again.

“I promise, it’ll be totally worth your while to sign it.”

Rush took a sip of the black coffee.

“And if I don’t?”

“We’ll beam you up to our spaceship.” Said O’Neill.

Rush gave him a long look, sipping the coffee, then took the wad of papers.

“Right. I think I want my lawyer to look it over first.”

“And by lawyer I assume you mean, trashcan.”

The two men sized each other up. O’Neill drank half the coffee in a long swallow and put it down on the table.

“So we’ll just agree then that I will call you.” Rush said, turning towards the waste paper basket.

 

There was a moment of dislocation, a musical hum and the feel of hard floor under his sock feet.

“What the…?”

Rush stopped dead, as ahead of him out of a large window Earth swam in a sea of blackness. He stared at it and reflexively took a sip of coffee.

“Welcome aboard the Hammond, Mister Rush.”

He turned to see the grinning young man from earlier walking into the lounge area he was now standing in. He was still holding Rush’s coffee mug, steam rising slightly from it.

“Yep, that’s planet Earth and yep you’re on a spaceship.” Eli sipped his coffee. ”We need your help and to be honest, I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

“I should lock up, turn everything off.”

“No problem, we can get that done.”

“I have a job, I need to call in…” He took out his mobile phone from his pocket then stopped himself.

Eli nodded to the mobile. “That’s probably not going to work up here. You can speak to them on the way. There’s a cover story you’ll have to follow.”

The smug look on his face made it all seem a little comic book adventure to Rush and he scowled.

“Sorry, on the way to…?”

Eli threw out his hands

“To another planet, 21 light years from here.” He said in a movie announcer voice.

Rush took a step back, looking for somewhere to put his coffee mug down.

“Look I have a job, a real job.”

Eli gave him a confiding look. “Not much of a job.”

“Yes, but it’s the only one I have.”

“Not now!” Eli grinned at him gesturing to the confidentiality agreement still in Rush’s other hand.

Rush drained the last of the coffee.

“And if I don’t sign, what you’ll just erase my memory?” He said sourly.

Eli shrugged. “Something like that.”

Rush took a deep breath.

“Can I get some shoes?”

 

* * *

Mono = Glandular fever


End file.
